


A Song from the River

by mrgoldsdearie



Series: Nygmobblepot Ficlets [20]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nymph!Edward, Satyr!Oswald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 22:11:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12419289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgoldsdearie/pseuds/mrgoldsdearie
Summary: Inspired by an ask on @askoswaldandedward blog- Satyr!Oswald hears a mesmerizing song coming from the river. He follows the sound and finds the first Water Nymph he's ever seen.





	A Song from the River

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my_chemical_romanoff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_chemical_romanoff/gifts).



> This is probably the cutest thing I’ve written in a while. I hope those read it love is just as much as do. This is my first time writing about mythical beings so I hope I did well. Sketch reposted with the artist permission. Please like, reblog, or comment if you enjoyed. Happy reading! ☆*✲ﾟ*｡(((´♡‿♡`+)))｡*ﾟ✲*☆

Lounging on an old large, decaying, stump, a lowly Satyr who goes by the name of Oswald rubs his full, protruding, belly. He had stumbled upon a large group of violets which made his stomach grumble violently even after he just eaten berries from a bush not too far from where he found the flowers. Oswald couldn't help but indulge in the violets. He hasn't seen those particular flowers in weeks.

 _“Wine,”_  he thought to himself.

Wine would be the perfect ending to an exquisite meal such at this, but Oswald is much too full to travel into the village of Gotham and steal some from the tavern. He's been chased off countless times for his craving for wine. Normally, he'd try to cure his needs, but today the idea of running from the villagers is a bit redundant. Why work off such a gorgeous meal as violets when he can relax in the middle of the woods, watch an array of butterflies fluttering overhead, and listen to the most serene serenade he’s ever heard?

Wait.... Music?.... Where is that coming from?

Oswald lazily picks himself up and his ears perk on top of his head, trying to find the exact location of where the singing is coming from.

“The river,” he says to himself.

He hops down from his comfortable stump and heads to the river to find whoever is making such a heavenly sound.

## ~~~~~

On the riverside, Oswald stands behind the cover of a large tree and he finds the mysterious signing more elegant than before. He can't understand the lyrics of the song, but that voice sounds like the calming flow of fresh water.

He must get closer. He needs to know who's singing the enchanting melody.  

Creeping low to the ground, Oswald slowly crawls through the tall grass. He makes it to a cluster of cattails on the river bank that he thinks will be the perfect thing to conceal his presence. Pushing the leaves to the right, Oswald lays eyes on the one signing for the first time. He gasps as his green eyes widen, mesmerized by the being before him.

Bathing in the river is a beautiful Water Nymph with dark brown hair that flows down to his back and skin which seems to glisten in the sunlight. He cleanses himself with a bar of soap made with various perfumed flowers which he was given as a gift from a god.

 [[X]](http://askoswaldandedward.tumblr.com/post/166522214341/water-nymph-ed-bathes-in-the-river-and-quietly)

“Mmm….. Mmm….”, the Nymph hums harmonically and dips his whole body into the water to rinse off the soap. He quickly emerges, flipping his hair out from the water.

Eyeing on the Nymph is a picturesque sight Oswald never imagined himself witnessing. His tail wags swiftly with delight.

The Nymph sighs blissfully as he slicks his wet hair out of his face and rests his bar of soap on a large river bolder. He rubs his right shoulder with his left hand and slightly turns his head in the direction where Oswald spies. “I've never known a Satyr to be a peeker,” the Water Nymph teases.

Oswald takes in a sharp breath and hides behind the cattails. He's been spotted. How could he have been caught when the Nymph never turned to him? Maybe if he stays quiet the Nymph will leave and not try to talk to him again.

“In my experience, Satyrs are more open about their advances,” the Nymph goes on to say and turns to the bush where he knows the Satyr his hiding. He saw Oswald crawling to the bush when Oswald thought his body was undetectable. “You can come out. There's no reason to stay hidden when I know that you're there.”

Now Oswald's tail wags with anxiety. How is he going to get out of this unprecedented situation?

“I'm still here if you're thinking that I'm gone.”

Oswald rips out a hand full of grass from the ground and eats it. It's the only thing he could do to eases his frustrations. There's no way he's getting out of this without uttering a word. The nymph isn't going to go anywhere soon.

“You must not know many Satyrs,” Oswald says from behind the cover of cattails with his mouth full of grass.

“Why do you say that?”, the Nymph questions, paddling a little closer to the river bank.

“Because you seem to think all Satyrs are rowdy drunks chasing after Nymphs,” Oswald answers a little vexed, though he really isn't. He just didn't know how else to start the conversation with the first Nymph he's ever seen.

“I never said that,” the Nymph says offended, squinting at the bush of cattails.

“Well, you insinuated it with your comment about our open advances.”

The Nymph’s face softens. It is kind of his fault that he assumed. “I didn't mean it that way, I promise.” He tries to assure the Satyr that he isn't closed minded to meeting others. Nymphs are desired by both men and gods and they could be seen as a little naive. “Please come out so I can apologize. I can't apologize to someone I can't see.”

Rolling his eyes and just wanting to get as far away from the river as he can, Oswald takes a deep breath and pops his head up from behind the bush. There was nothing else to do but to show himself at this point and stare at the Nymph. Gods, he is more stunning without the cover of leaves obstructing the view.

The Nymph giggles when he finally sees Oswald.  _“What a beautiful creature,”_  he thought - he'd never seen a Satyr before this moment.

Clearing his throat from the chucking, the Nymph moves a bit closer. “My apologies, Satyr,” he says honestly. “I didn't mean insinuate that you were a drunk just trying to target me, and you were right.” He nods and moves more hair out of his face. “I don't know many Satyrs, I don't know any at all. Just what I've been thought about them.”

“And what have you been taught?”, Oswald asks, tipping his head to the right.

“From what I know about you so far?” A smile creeps across the Nymph’s flawless face. “Lies.”

Oswald's freckled cheeks bloom and he lowers his head to hide his blush. “I'm Os-Oswald,” he shyly introduces himself and finally shuffles out from behind the bush, showing his full body to the gorgeous Water Nymph - the body of part man and goat.

“What a delightful name,” the Nymph says without blinking an eye to Oswald's appearance and offers his hand to the creature. “I'm called Edward.”

Oswald takes Edward by the hand then immediately begins to sniff the floral perfume from his soft flesh. He's smelled any flowers, but nothing like this.

“What are you doing?!” It takes all the power Edward has not to snatch his hand away from the Satyr and smack him with it.

“What is that addicting fragrance?”, Oswald asks, continuing to smell Edward's hand.

Edward takes back his hand and moves just out of the Satyr’s reach. “That was rude,” he scoffed. “I understand you're part animal, but you don't have to act like it.”

“I'm sorry,” Oswald apologizes, plopping down on the ground with a thud and lowers his head shamefully. He doesn't know what gotten into him since meeting the Nymph. Normally, he has more self-control.

Edward gazes at Oswald. There's just something about the Satyr that he finds intriguing and he easily forgives his discourteous manners. “It's called soap,” he breaks the silence between them.

“Soap?”, Oswald says curiously, lifting his head.

“Yes,” the Nymph nods and grabs hold onto the soap he laid on the rock. “It's the fragrance you asked about.” He wades closer to the river bank and Oswald moves forward, dipping his hooved feet into the water. “This is soap—” he gently opens Oswald's hand and rests the bar in his palm— “and I got it from Artemis. It never runs out. I've had it for years.”

Oswald studies the mass of fat and oils with flowers frozen inside. He's never seen or smelled anything like it. “You got a gift from a god?”, he asks.

“Yes, it was a long time ago, but I helped her once,” Edward answers proudly. Helping the goddess of the hunt retrieve an item she's lost was a highlight of the Nymph's long life.

“That's noble of you—” Oswald's shoulders slump forward and he buries his hands between his thick fury thighs— “to help a god.”

“Who wouldn't help a god?” Edward exclaimed enthusiastically.

“I probably wouldn't.” Oswald turns his head away. “Gods killed my mother,” he says softly. “She was unknowingly caught in a game between two Gods which eventually took her life.”

“Oh…. I'm -- I'm so sorry, Oswald,” Edward says sympathetically, laying a wet hand on the Satyr's leg.

Oswald instantly turns back and looks the Nymph in his glistening brown eyes. “It's okay.” He shrugs his shoulders slightly.  “It happened a long time ago. Gods will always do whatever they want and destroy whatever they want.” Oswald brings the soap up to his face and sniffs the bar again. Without thinking through his actions, the Satyr bites into a corner of the soap, breaking off a piece and chews. His mouth is filled with the same fragrance that had just kissed his nose.

Edward gasps, shocked at what he's just seen. “You ate my soap!”

Oswald looks down at the soap in his hands which now has the pattern of his teeth in the upper right corner. “I'm s-sorry,” swiftly apologizes. 

It isn't a surprise that a significant percentage of their first encounter has just been nothing but apologizing to each other for their differences and misunderstandings. 

“I really didn't mean to,” Oswald expresses sincerely. “I -- I eat when I get nervous or upset. I can’t help it.”

“It's fine, Oswald.” Edward snickers and smiles gleeful at the Satyr. What has just transpired was unbelievable. “It's just that it's -- it's supposed to be indescribable and you just bit right through the soap with ease.”

Oswald swallows the bite of soap in his mouth. “I guess it isn't indescribable to Satyrs.”

“Apparently not,” Edward replies laughing. He still can't get over the hilarity of the situation. “May I have it back please?”, he asks after getting over his chuckles. Just because Oswald can eat it, doesn't mean he should. “I honestly don't want you to eat my soap.”

“Of course. I understand.” He rests the bar in Edward's waiting hand. “I really didn't mean to eat your soap, but it was delicious though.” A sly grin stretches across Oswald's features. He pleases that the Nymph found his mistakes funny rather than getting angry about ruining his gift.

“I imagine it was.” Edward returns the soap back to the rock he rested it on before. “I like you—” he faces Oswald again— “for a Satyr.”

“I like you, for a Nymph.”

“Would you like to swim with me?”, the Nymph asks. He hasn't swum with anyone else in so long and the company will be thrilling.

“Swim?” Oswald point to himself. No one has asked him to do anything with them, let alone swimming.

“Yes—” Edward nods— “or else you have somewhere you need to be.”

“No!” He says a little more desperate than he had liked. “I’ll swim with you. It would be a pleasure.”

“How exciting!” Edward squealed, clapping his hands flamboyantly. “I’ll race you to the beech tree over there.” He points at the tree just down the river.”

“Race?” Oswald crosses his arms in a huff. “But you’ll beat me.” He knows he can never win a swimming race with a Water Nymph.

“How about—” Edward takes Oswald's hands and pulls him into the water, receiving an unexpected cry out from the surprised Satyr— “I give you a head start.”

“Are you always this eager to swim?”, Oswald asks, shaking the water out of his charcoal colored hair.

Edward giggles from the slashes sprinkling his face. “Yes,” he cheered, beaming brightly from ear to ear. “Are you ready?”

“I really get a head start right?”, Oswald makes sure.

“Yes.” Edward would never lie to someone he already thinks of as a friend.

“I’ll count down from 3 and you go 10 seconds after.”

“Okay,” the Nymph agrees.

“3……” Oswald dives into the water before his countdown was completed. He pumps his arms, swimming downstream as fast as he can travel.

The Nymph isn’t bothered by the Satyr’s slight deceptions. There's no time between them that would allow him to lose this race. He waits his 10 seconds before diving into the water after Oswald and makes it to the tree in lightning speed.

Oswald felt and saw nothing as Edward flowed passing him over the water. He doesn't see the Nymph until he makes it to the tree. “I knew -- you were -- going to beat me,” he says out of breath.

“Well, you didn't lose.”

“But I didn't win.”

“You still get a prize.”

Oswald's ears perk up. “I do?”

“Of course you do.” Edward wallows through the water, getting closer to Oswald, and delicately traces a finger down the Satyr’s right horn. He scales his hand down to Oswald's cheek, feeling the creature trembling under his touch. He slowly leans in, cupping his other hand on Oswald's cheek, and presses his wet lips against the Satyr’s.

“Mmm….” Oswald purrs against the Nymphs soft, smooth, lips and closes his eyes as his tail wags under the cover of water. He's never had a kiss before and didn't expect to feel a tingle upon his lips. What is that intoxicating sensation?

When Edward gently breaks off their kiss, he caresses his thumb over Oswald's bottom lip. “Did you enjoy your prize,” he whispers.

“Yes,” Oswald speaks softly and opens his eyes as if he's waking from a spell. “It was ethereal.”

Edward smiles and giggles blissfully.

“Thank you,” the Satyr says graciously.

“You're welcome.”


End file.
